It could not growl, but it would've, if it could, but, alas, it could not utter a sound from its mouthless–vocalcordless body. Its malformed, disgruntled frame jostled as it stared at the swiftly approaching knight, which had already made it halfway to his destination. His fists were particularly partial to the soon to be devastating thrashing. Kanaft soared high above the pair, deciding to take up the backing role in this final tug in their match for control of Moyra. A giant band of fire elusively emerged from nothing, animatedly swerving around its summoner protectively, but not for long. The ring of fire was swiftly transfigured from its former form into several polearms the length of Kanaft, with blades longer than the knight–all hovering around the bird in a similar fashion to the single ring had prior to the collection of spears' existence. Blades pointing to their target, they were all launched near instantaneously. Like streaks of red lightning, the spears crashed into the anomaly, the pyres burning heated holes into the otherwise frigid, unliving body. As soon as they landed on the somewhat pimply body of the disfigured thing, the spears of fire erupted like mini volcanoes, each shooting streams of fire out through the top of their handle ends as the points of the spears edge quickly unhinged and stretched all the way through the creatures not very durable outer layer, into the equally stretchy muscles.
It could not scream–but it shuttered violently after becoming a 'living' pin-cushion–its vibrating exaggerated to a point it looked like it was screaming through body language–something the knight found to be rather odd, yet excruciatingly humorous considering its build in such a form. Black blood squirted out of the wounds, and soon after turned into snowflakes of ash, floating right back above the creature–waiting to be integrated into the main body as it had previously been. The knight was rather agitated by the sight. A congregation of ideas invaded his mind of how best to not just endure this enemy, but to defeat it, once and for all, yet as much as he wanted to finish this recklessly and begin preparation for their encounter with the warriors of the sky he knew better than anyone just how dangerous an animal backed up into a wall could be–and he, just as this creature in front of him did, learned from his mistakes. In no time at all, he found himself in front of the awkward-looking, towering fiend of black, and in even less time than that, the knight found the familiar grip of Rising Tide clutched in his hand again, still bathed in the black blood of his opponent–which slightly confused the knight, considering every splatter of blood quickly reformed into a cloud of ash, after swiftly peeling itself off of whatever surface it had managed to drape itself over. Which left another unanswered question–but there was no use dwelling on it. The knight gazed at the spears of fire that were still lodged into the creature, many of which were sent clean through the creature's body. It didn't seem to mind the damage being done to it, though–as it only dodged the several spears that were aimed for its scalp.
It could not whimper at the insatiable fire that ate away at its flesh–the prison of the group of souls clustered together, trapped inside of it–both uncontrolling of the prison that held them captive, and wrestling control over one another to make moves of their own to supposedly 'keep living,' something the knight would've found ironic considering the fact theory were under lock and key inside of a cloud of ash that occasionally took forms of a diminishing, rotting corpse, all of which were only slightly different from the rest. The knight adjusted his grip on Rising Tide in between the junction of one moment and the next, allowing the edge of the straight sword to be perpendicular to himself as he entered into his lower stance, and quickly shot forward in that same blinding speed that had helped him breeze through the other two fights prior to this one, just as it would do with this fight.
It could not screech its anguish as the knight repeatedly hacked away from the creature's grotesquely misshapen, disproportionate legs which were barely holding up the equally odd upper body of the malignant, biologically, and magically engineered force. Tendons were severed, feet were thrashed, calves were obliterated, and the shins were systematically shattered often enough to make it difficult for the creature's legs to properly reform–yet it never once even slipped–the being remained upright the entire time, even while more and more spears of fire began cascading down from a new ring of fire around Kanaft. If the knight was forced to acknowledge anything about this creature, he would have to reluctantly compliment this thing's tenacity, and its regenerative abilities; It just would not go down–let alone stay down. To construct this odd, evasive thing, the eye had used every last remaining flake of ash left under its command–which had significantly declined, or at least that's what the knight assumed off of the creature itself–seeing as it was missing several important things about it; one of those things–and the most obvious of them–being the lack of anything other than a skeleton for the creature's torso. Despite its unbalanced body, the abomination managed to stay on its toes the entire time–not even whimpering at the pain.
It could not remove its sight from the much smaller knight as he ravaged the frame of the things lower half–it may have been able to stop itself from toppling over in the beginning, but its discombobulated knees were beginning to fade under the strain of the onslaught of the knight and crumble under the weight of itself, so, without a moment of hesitation, the creature dissolved itself into a loud of ash once again–enveloping the open air above the knight, yet below Kanaft sparsely. It was like this was trying to separate the duo from each other–something that both members of the team did notice, yet neither seemed very threatened by the separation–only mildly intrigued by the new situation. The already waning ash came to the conclusion that the bird was the more dangerous of the two assailants, so it quickly reformed into another abhorrent, incorrect-looking abomination with large, spindly wings that probably weighed more than the rest of the disease's tiny torso. Its single eye stared from the center of the spherical torso into Kanaft's twin beady, obsidian eyes with defiance. Their long fought battle was looking to end today, after so, so long of this stalemate since the last time they had fought. With a large, loud flap of its draconic wings, the engineered foe became a black blur in the warmly lit cavern forcing its way towards the pyromancer.
It could not reach Kanaft as the giant bird was far faster than the single-eyed, and single-lifed plague, and, like water, swerved around the creature's passive wingspan without a hitch despite the limited space inside of the nest creating several gusts of severe wind to travel across their makeshift battlefield. All the knight could do in that moment was watch as the pair entered aerial combat after the enemy of the two partially transferred its overly large wings into muscular forearms, with several fingers on each, all with long, serrated claws that could easily cut through most metals. Its single emotionless eye glared harshly into Kanaft's eyes, oftentimes glancing up to the small horns jutting out of the bird head with almost reverence in its single eye. They fought in the sky for what felt like a far longer time to the knight that they had actually been. They were intertwined by creation, and had been that way for that way who knew how long, so it only made sense that when they clashed in the sky, they could not land a hit on one another–it was like they were dancing, both high above the knight, and far below Death's monotonous keys, morphing slowly into that same serene lullaby of passing on, as if welcoming the spirits inside the last eye–even before they were freed. The knight found it hard to pay attention to the complex, dodging and weaving, and occasional strikes for each other's jugular or eye, respectively, when The Guidance's four arms played such a melodic sheet of music on the spot, without a physical sheet of music. Maybe Death was creating these songs he played on the uneven keys on the spot, letting his natural talent for the hymns and melodies blanket wherever he decided to play. As he continued to let his gaunt fingers wander about the instrument, the knight zoned back into the fight he had blankly been staring at only to see something far different from the hateful dance the pair had been unknowingly dancing, into a typhoon of talons and a storm of red and black, rain falling onto the land. Somehow, this creature, which was far inferior to Kanaft, had been landing strikes on the bird. How lethal these wounds were–the knight did not know, but that didn't stop him from resolving to end this fight, once and for all. He had originally felt that the bird wished to end this black mark on Moyra himself, but there was no time for that. Thinking about it some–the knight also found it rather puzzling that the bird would refuse to use his flame manipulation in this final round, but he amounted it to some crude, hurt pride, or maybe he was simply trying to prove to himself that he could deal with this foe by himself–after so long of it alluding him and toying with him–and now, at the weakest it had likely ever been–if the knight's assumptions were to be believed–and he still could not finish it. He sighed, but there was no use in trying to assume something about the bird, especially something as complex as pride and as widespread as humiliation, so he prepared Rising Tide for another throw–to skewer the eye in all its glory.
It could not express the agony of being ripped apart by the extremely large talons attached to the feet of Kanaft. He hadn't even used his fire the entire fight–some form of pride it assumed, yet there was something else–not that the fiend truly cared. It was so absorbed in its little world with the bird, that it forgot about the problematic knight below that had speared his first eye to turn to ash in many tens of thousands of years, which would be its final mistake in its ever-lasting-life. Positioning himself, the knight held the blade above his head as he bided his time, searching for the correct moment to end the faux fight against this lowlife of an opponent–and it wasn't long before that moment lapsed into his vision. Kanaft and the creature were well apart from each other, floating about him equidistant from where he was. He could not see the eye on the creature, but he had seen it earlier in their fight to estimate roughly where it was on the creature's spherical body. It did not seem to notice him either–a bonus, if you asked the knight, so he did not waste this moment of pause, and quickly let Rising Tide fly skyward–finding its mark perfectly. Blood flew outward like a fountain, yet it did not react–it simply dissipated.
It could not scream; It could not writhe in agony; it could not help but be assimilated into the greater cloud, reunited. As the creature returned to ash, and Rising Tide fell like a falling star on the horizon down to the surface of the wooded nest, the forest shuttered. The wounded Kanaft flapped its wings to stay hovering. The ghastly spirits that exploded from the eye like a pinata, had swiftly been absorbed into Death–who thereafter disappeared without a hint of acknowledgement to the two winners of the fight–his limp smile was stained with an estranged melancholia behind the vale as he went to continue his work–waiting patiently for the knight and Kanaft to find their way beyond the eternal enemies of conflicting ideals. The barrier of ash had solidified–now a single being. Though it seemed like neither of the two remaining creatures seemed to notice the loss of the mellow-dramatic tune that had played in the background of their rather onesided fight, it wouldn't be onesided for much longer.
It screeched loudly. Its shrill howl came from all sides, enveloping the knight's ears from all directions–though it mostly came from the entrance of the nest, but that didn't stop it from invading his ears from the extremely thick trees. Why it howled–it wasn't sure, but it sounded like a cry of joy, something the knight found rather foreboding. The great tangle of the forest tightened on itself–constricting in fear for the first time since its father had gone under into that eternal coma–and the knight shuddered–if it was out of fear, he wouldn't know. This was not something he was prepared for. This creature of ash was far more than anything he could've expected. Glancing up at the still hovering Kanaft, he stared into those eyes, curiosity waging war with annoyance in his eyes. There was a new obstacle in the way and this time, it was going to take a lot more effort to put this one to rest–at least that's what he assumed off of the tremor that enveloped everything the knight could see. Sighing, the knight could consider what could possibly be waiting for them above the canopy–guarding the father of the forest–outside of the Incarnate and Dragon.
'It can never be easy, can it?'